The Maids Know Everything
by andthearrowflies
Summary: As the eldest child of The Boy Who Lived prepares to begin schooling at Hogwarts, a young woman is bombarded by reporters from every gossipy magazine and newspaper. The reason? She's been working for the past year as a maid for the Malfoy family, and the wizarding world is dying to know what the Malfoys are saying about the Potters. And after all, the maids know everything.


**The Maids Know Everything**

"REBECCA! REBECCA CURLEY! A WORD?"

Rebecca spun around, which probably wasn't the smartest choice. As she turned around, she nearly collided with a frazzled looking father who was carrying several boxes worth of school supplies. It was one o'clock on a September day in Diagon Alley. One of those things alone was bad at any store; all three together was an absolute nightmare. If Rebecca hadn't needed a new book to read on the plane she wouldn't have come at all. But the fact was that she, like the rest of the soon to be school children and their families here, had put off her shopping until the last possible moment, and this was her just punishment.

The woman who had called her name was pushing through the crowd now, an older woman with bleach blonde curls, hot pink claws that were waving around desperately in the air, and a strange green and orange geometric dress with shoulder pads. If it was Halloween and that woman was supposed to be an eighties teenager, it would've worked. But all she looked like now was the love child of an incesteous relationship between highlighters.

But Rebecca waved back anyway, and stopped outside the window for Flourish and Blotts. If she was right, this woman was another reporter. She'd been approached by three in the past five days. After all, Harry Potter's children were starting school next week, and if the good guy succeeds, everyone wants to hear what the bad guy has to say. And if the bad guy isn't avaliable, hey, why not ask the maid? It's not like she has anything better to do.

"Can I help you?" Rebecca asked politely as the woman arrived, panting. She wiped sweat from her brow dramatically, and winked conspiratorially at Rebecca, as if they were now great friends because she, too, perspired.

"What, no hello, how are you?" said the woman. Meant as a joke, it sounded like a threat. "Well, I'm doing fine, anyway. Rita Skeeter, from _Diagon Dirt_." As she spoke, she pulled out a notebook and a bright green quill, which began writing magically on the paper without any obvious prompt from Rita.

"Pleasure," said Rebecca, forcing a smile.

Rita smiled back at her, as if to agree. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

"Go ahead," said Rebecca. She glanced at her watch. It was two-thirty now, she would love to be back at the Manor for three… she could only spare a few minutes with this woman who had already begun to annoy her.

"Now, as I understand it, you've been employed by the Malfoys for about eleven months now?" Rita asked.

"Uh, yeah," shrugged Rebecca.

"And how has that been? I mean, have -"

"Look, let me just say that my work conditions are fine, that the Malfoys have been nothing but kind to me, and that they have not expressed any ill-will towards the Potter family," cut in Rebecca. "If you need to know anything else after that, then by all means, ask me."

"Why, I've think we've got a junior reporter on our hands!" beamed Rita. "How did you know I would ask that?"

"They're the same questions everyone's been asking all week," said Rebecca flatly. She was being rude, and she knew it, but she _really _didn't have time for this today. "It's stupid. What, do you all think that just because James Potter is starting school, the Malfoys are gonna go berserk? That's idiotic. And also -"

"That answer sounded very scripted," cut in Rita.

Rebecca blinked. "What?"

"Your first statement. The 'let me just say that my work experience was great, bla bla bla'. Very boring, you know," said Rita, her face a caricature of a polite smile. "Very scripted. Did the Malfoys coach you on what to say?"

Rebecca stared at her. "Are you for real?" she demanded. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard all week." The pen quivered in excitement and wrote faster.

"Defensive, huh?" Rita raised an eyebrow knowingly.

"No, I'm -"

"Did Mr Malfoy ever try to seduce you?"

"_What_?" This was the biggest waste of time. Rebecca shook her head. "No, I have never been seduced by Mr Malfoy. Are we done here? I'm going to college tomorrow. I don't have time for this." She pushed not so gently past Rita into the bookstore.

Inside, Rebecca took a deep breath. She was so _done_ with everyone in London. It would be great to get to California, where no one knew whom she worked for or what their personal history was. "Honestly," she muttered as she stepped into an aisle marked _Thrillers_. Everyone seemed to think that she was some poor, innocent young girl who hadn't known when she'd started working for the Malfoy family as their housekeeper that they'd been on the side of the Death Eaters in the Second Wizarding War. Please, as if she was an imbecile. Rebecca had known exactly what she'd been doing when she'd applied for the position. She didn't come from well-off family (her mother a nurse at St Mungo's and her father a Muggle teacher), and she needed extra money in order to go to college in America. The Malfoys had offered a generous sum. How could she have refused that? And they'd been nothing but lovely to her. Draco wasn't exactly the warmest person, true, and his son was a little strange, but both of them were very kind to her, and she enjoyed their company. And Astoria was wonderful, and Rebecca was going to miss her so much while she was at college...

Just as Rebecca started to relax, browsing the shelves for a book that would be able to distract her from a ten hour plane ride, she heard a shrill, impatient voice from the door. "Rebecca! Rebecca Curley!" It was Rita, standing on tiptoes as she searched for her interviewee.

"Shit," muttered Rebecca, backing further into the aisle. She was more annoyed than panicked; she needed to get a new book and be back at Malfoy Manor soon so she could say goodbye and take her stuff and go back to her flat and pack -

"Rebecca!" She jumped. Rita had snuck up from the other end of the shelves. "I just have one more question - Co-llege, isn't it a - well, a _Muggle_ school?"

"Yes, it is," said Rebecca.

"And where is this - where is Co-llege?" asked Rita eagerly.

"I'm going to University of California, Los Angeles. I'm majoring in film production," said Rebecca, who couldn't help but sound proud. She'd been dreaming about this for a while, and although Hogwarts had been amazing, and the wizarding world was amazing, there was something about movies that Rebecca loved, and she wanted to be part of that...

"...your employer feel about this?" Rebecca blinked at the question. She'd missed the first half. Rita was staring at her expectantly, licking her lips.

"What?"

"Knowing Mr Malfoy's history of persecuting Muggle-borns, how does he feel about you attending a Muggle school?" repeated Rita, insultingly slow. Rebecca clenched one fist. It had been eleven months since she'd started working for the Malfoys. Today was her last day. If there was a time for making impulsive yet long overdue speeches, it would be now.

"Okay, first of all, the Malfoys haven't freaked out because I'm going to an American college for Muggles, no," Rebecca informed Rita, who looked like she'd just learned that her favorite supplier of tacky neon dresses had gone out of business (which wouldn't being surprising, because it was honestly the effing ugliest thing Rebecca had ever seen). Her face fell, and the pen slowed slightly.

"Secondly, even if they did care at all, it wouldn't matter, since we're not related and I've been working there for barely a year. And thirdly -"

"Rebecca, listen," said Rita quickly, backing up right into a bookshelf. The books on the shelf shook slightly. It was clear that the reporter had realised she'd made a mistake.

"No, _you _listen," snapped Rebecca, a sudden burst of anger shooting through her veins. "In case you haven't noticed, the Second Wizarding War happened sixteen years ago. Don't you think there is even the slightest possibility that Draco Malfoy isn't the same person today that he was back then? Mr Malfoy as I know him is a _perfectly_ nice person, and Mrs Malfoy is just _lovely_ and Scorpius is a very sweet child, and I wouldn't be surprised if he got along very well with the Potter children at Hogwarts in the future. So, if you would be _so kind_ as to leave me alone, I have business to attend to." She jutted her chin out and turned to go, but Rita grabbed her arm, digging her pink nails into Rebecca's flesh.

"Let go of me!" she hissed, squirming, but Rita, despite her other flaws, had a remarkable grip.

"Oh, Rebecca, please don't take this personally?" pleaded the reporter, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. "I'm just trying to get -" And all of a sudden, she stopped short, her breath seemingly stuck in her throat, her eyes fixed on something in the distance. Rebecca jerked away. Rita didn't even notice. With a furrowed brow, Rebecca turned to see none other than Draco Malfoy standing at the end of the aisle, staring at both of them with an almost stunned expression.

"Mr Malfoy?" Rebecca glanced at Rita, then quickly approached him. How long had he been standing there? "Um… is everything okay?"

He stared at her, opened his mouth, and then closed it. Draco shook his head. "Everything's fine. Astoria sent me up to get… well, honestly, she wanted me to get a going away gift for you. I didn't realise you'd still be here," he said awkwardly.

Rebecca smiled, despite her best efforts not to. "I'm leaving shortly," she promised. "I'll get out of your way."

Draco nodded, then glanced back at Rita, who immediately blushed pinker than her nails. "Skeeter," he said coldly, sounding more like the Malfoy everyone expected. She gave him a stupid little wave in return.

"I'll see you back at the Manor then?" asked Rebecca, turning to go. "I've really got to get back soon, or -"

"Rebecca?"

"Yes?" She turned back around. He seemed to be struggling for words.

"I… well, never mind," he muttered. Draco seemed embarrassed. It seemed to be his idea of a thank you. Rebecca smiled. She got the sense this wasn't about the past eleven months that she'd spent with their family, making the beds, cleaning up after their eight year old, helping Astoria in the kitchen, going out with the family for dinner, exchanging Christmas presents with the Malfoys…

"My pleasure," she said. And with that, Rebecca Curley turned and walked away.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_I thought of this idea a while ago, but never really felt motivated to write about her until I used the Write or Die online app. Her name came to me out of the blue, and then all of a sudden I had this really clear idea of who Rebecca was. As for the Malfoys, I've always had a really warm feeling about Astoria, even though she makes an extremely insignificant appearance in the book. And I feel like she would've had a really positive effect on Draco and the raising of their child, and just in general good things._

_ I also like the idea of someone going from Hogwarts to a Muggle college. I don't think every single person to go through Hogwarts would've chosen a job in the Muggle world._

_The inspiration for this story comes from a line that Mia says in _The Princess Diaires 2: The Royal Engagement:_  
><em>

Mia: I just wanted to say, before I do this... I'm sorry you're retiring.

Joe: Who told you that?

Mia: **The maids know everything.**

_I liked the idea of maids and other people who worked at the palace being known for their knowledge on the people whom they work for, and that translated into this. _


End file.
